


no time to w(h)ine

by ralf



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor, magnus just wants to drink his wine in peace okay, the universe has other plans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 00:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14461626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralf/pseuds/ralf
Summary: Magnus is just about to take a well-deserved sip of his '95 Château Mouton Rothschild after a long day when the door to his loft flies open and Clary bursts in, distressed determination etched firmly into her features. Magnus groans. Clearly his day is about to become even longer.





	no time to w(h)ine

**Author's Note:**

> I have...... no excuse or explanation for this. Just heed the tags and enjoy ;)

Magnus is just about to take a well-deserved sip of his '95 Château Mouton Rothschild after a long day when the door to his loft flies open and Clary bursts in, distressed determination etched firmly into her features. Magnus groans. Clearly his day is about to become even longer.

“Sure, why don't you come in?” he grouses pettily.

Clary ignores him. “Magnus, I need your help! It's a matter of life or death!”

Magnus refrains from rolling his eyes because _isn't it always?_ He snaps his fingers to create an airtight sealing bubble around his glass of wine to keep it fresh u ntil he's dealt with this unpleasant twist of fate and reluctantly gets up. “And who's life is at stake?”

“Dot's!”

This time he does roll his eyes. “I thought it was a _real_ emergency,” he huffs and falls back into his armchair. Seems like he'll be getting back to his wine sooner than expected.

Clary fixes him, looking appalled. “ _What?_ ”

Magnus waves his hand. “You must have noticed the pattern by now. Dot disappears under tragic circumstances, we assume she's dead or worse and as soon as the Plot requires it she pops out of nowhere, fit as a fiddle or, you know,” he waves his hand some more, “without lasting injuries. Wherever she is now, I'm sure she'll be fine and we'll have her back in a few Episodes.”

Clary stares at him, her gaze accusatory, as if she doesn't even recognize him anymore. “How can you be so heartless?”

Magnus sighs deeply, rubbing his brow. “I'm not heartless. I just have it all figured out and don't see the sense in wasting time and energy on something that will happen anyway. Believe me, Dot is saver than _we_ are, and we are _Protagonists_.” He's not bitter about that, nope, no way, not even a little bit.

“Okay, I have _no_ idea what you're talking about right now.” Clary motions to his wine glass. “How many of those have you had already?”

Magnus scoffs. What an outrageous insinuation. “Not enough,” he mutters.

Clary frowns.

“The clue is in the name,” he laments frustratedly because he's been watching too much Sherlock in between Scenes lately. When Clary just looks at him as if he's lost his mind he elaborates, “ _Dot_. Like a _point_. A _Plot_ Point.”

Clary shakes her head. “I'm still completely lost.”

Magnus stares at his wine longingly and inches his hand towards it. Clary pointedly clears her throat and Magnus' eyes snap back to her. It seems she won't leave until she's heard an explanation that satisfies her.

“Clary, have you kept count of how many fake-funerals Dot has had this Season alone?” he tries.

“No,” she answers slowly, eying him wearily.

“Me neither! I lost count because there were _so many_. Half the warlock cemetery is littered with Dot-graves.”

Clary contemplates him for a moment with a disturbed expression while his hand creeps towards the glass again and he's almost made it when she addresses him again, sharply. “ _Magnus!_ I really don't know what you're talking about or what you're _on_ but you're the only one who can help Dot.”

Magnus closes his eyes in exhaustion. This is so pointless, but there's no escaping Clary on a mission.

“Please, Magnus. She could be _dead!_ ”

“Yeah, well,” he gripes, “the first time she _'died'_ ,” he inserts dramatic air quotes and thinks fondly of Izzy, “you said 'Oh my God' and looked affected for a second before you carried on, so I don't see why you're getting so worked up at the prospect now.”

Clary crosses her arms defensively. “I had other, more pressing problems at the time.”

Magnus perks up, sensing his chance. “Okay. I heard there's a really nasty rat infestation at the Hotel DuMort, maybe you could look into that?” he suggests, throwing in a charming smile for good measure.

It falls flat, if Clary's narrowing eyes are any indication. “What are you _talking_ about?”

Magnus sighs again. “I thought if you had a more pressing problem you'd let this go...?”

Clary shakes her head. “You can't be serious. Magnus. _Please._ ”

He's just contemplating snatching his wine and making a break for it, when his wards shudder, the balcony door rattles ominously, the lights flicker sinisterly and suddenly there's the loud shattering of a window breaking. Cold air rushes in and throws Magnus's hair into disarray and a person steps through the now broken balcony door, walking over the glass shards with heavy steps.

Magnus is seriously pondering if he should shield himself from the potentially dangerous intruder or finally grab his wine while Clary is distracted, when Clary addresses the burglar, making his blood run cold.

“Dot! Thank the Angel, I was so worried about you!”

Clary is right, the trespasser really is Dot. She looks a little worse for wear, her hair is a mess, covering half her face and she's clutching her side, but otherwise she looks fine.

“Just like I said,” Magnus mumbles defiantly, but wisely keeps his voice down so Clary won't hear him.

Clary rushes to Dot's side, keeping her steady with an arm around her waist and guides her to the nearest chair.

“I'm alright,” Dot reassures Clary, who's fussing over her.

“Just like I said,” Magnus repeats, ogling his wine glass surreptitiously.

“Magnus,” Dot says, and Magnus feels like crying because he knows that tone. He just wants _one_ evening of peace, is that too much to ask? Apparently. He needs to have some stern words with the Scene Planner Person so they can agree on regular working hours. He wants nothing to do with all This Madness after 6 p.m. That sounds reasonable, doesn't it?!

Dot carries on, unfazed. “I barely managed to escape my captors. And I overheard their plan of attack. We need to move fast, they want to strike tonight.”

Magnus is tempted to ask if she's sure this wasn't a ploy and she was _supposed_ to overhear this piece of information – it wouldn't be the first time – but he knows all his concerns will go unheeded. This _isn't_ the first time, after all.

Clary fixes him, brimming with energy and Magnus resigns himself to his fate. He knows when resistance is futile.

With one last wistful look at his wine he gets up. The things he does for his paycheck, really.

 

 

 


End file.
